


Russian in to Love

by Menacherie



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, learning a language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 23:26:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13154235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menacherie/pseuds/Menacherie
Summary: The first word he learns is hello. (привет). Bob’s voice doesn’t trip or stumble over the phone greeting in Russian. привет flows smoothly out of his mouth. Nick pauses after he greats Bob in turn, and wonders about people that say Russian is a harsh language.“Is that meant to be “hello” in Russian?” he asks.Bob laughs. Nick can hear the grin in Bob’s voice when he replies.





	Russian in to Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [void_fish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/void_fish/gifts).



The first word he learns is hello. ( _привет_ ). Bob’s voice doesn’t trip or stumble over the phone greeting in Russian. привет flows smoothly out of his mouth. Nick pauses after he greats Bob in turn, and wonders about people that say Russian is a harsh language. 

“Is that meant to be “hello” in Russian?” he asks. 

Bob laughs. Nick can hear the grin in Bob’s voice when he replies.

—

The second word, is of course, vodka ( _водка_ ). He learns it not from Bob, but from Anisimov. It's not really a surprise that the second Russian word he learns is vodka, but it is amusing. Bob tells him the word водка comes from the Russian word for water, and then smirks when Nick chokes on his drink. 

—

The third is a curse word, and really Nick doesn’t know what it actually means. It was muttered under Bob’s breath after a particularly horrible loss. Bob stood on his head and almost won the game, but no one could be bothered to play well enough for him. Nick doesn’t want to ask what it means, doesn’t want to pile on to Bob’s stress. 

—

The fourth is a more comforting word, and honestly one of Nick’s favorite words.

“How do you say “hug” in Russian?” Nick asks one night after a game. The rest of the team is flittering around the girls at the edge of the bar, and Nick and Bob are alone at the table - holding the fort down, as Joey likes to say. 

“объятие” Bob says. Nick tries mimicking the word, accent and everything, but clearly stumbles over it a few times while a smile plays at Bob’s lips. He even giggles a little, like it's nice not being the only one to mess up a language he doesn’t know. Bob finally corrects him gently, and Nick nods. He wonders what this would feel like if Bob weren’t so nice, or if he had been thrown to the Russian media like this. The thought makes him pause, and he tells himself that if he’s that concerned he can look into learning the language. For now, he leans into Bob and practices the correct pronunciation of объятие. 

—

He hates Rosetta Stone, even if he does learn words five through twenty three while using it. Bob catches him muttering Russian words and phrases like Где туалет? ( _Where is the toilet_ ) and Таблица ( _table_ ) under his breath and leans over the plane seat. “Plan on playing in KHL?” he asks, then presses his mouth together in a frown. Nick frowns and looks closer at the furrowed brows of Bob’s face. 

“No,” he says slowly, and tries to give Bob a teasing grin. “But you never know what could happen, another lockout, an apocalypse,” he says, and then nudges the arm leaning over his seat. 

Bob lets out a snort of amusement and the knot in Nick’s stomach unfurls. “Well then,” Bob says, leaning in closer. “You ruining my language, here, you say after me,” he says, then says the word Таблица clearly. 

Nick scowls and shoves at him, and Bob outright laughs this time. 

—

After words five through twenty three, he starts talking to Bob in halting Russian during flights. Bob lets him watch the Russian movies he has downloaded, and the ones he has with English subtitles so Nick can hopefully get a handle on his pronunciation. Nick learns words twenty-four to fifty through this method, and eventually stops trying to keep count after that. 

“You are doing good,” Bob says one night as one of the movies on his iPad winds down. They’re in Bob’s hotel room, shoulders pressed together while laying down on his bed. The sheets here feel nicer than the ones in his room. Nick ducks his head and shrugs, his shoulder catching against Bob’s. 

“Thanks,” he says quietly. 

Bob nudges him and the bed dips. Nick nudges him back a little harder with a smirk on his face, and the next think Nick knows, they’ve forgotten the iPad and are wrestling like rookies. 

—

One day, Nick looks up and Bob doesn't have anyone to talk to in Russian, just Nick, who barely counts. He looks back at Rosetta Stone and pulls it back out again - maybe now that he’s got a bit more of a vocabulary it won’t be like pulling teeth. He feels like he’s not meant to learn another language at this age though. 

“How’d you do it?” he asks Bob, one night after a movie in their hotel. Nick is tired of his mouth hurting, tired of the syllables coming out of mouth a tangled mess and he knows he doesn’t have to do this, doesn’t have to keep pushing on, but he’s put this much effort in already.

Bob is quiet for a few minutes, looks down at his hands, but Nick doesn’t panic, because he’s grown used to Bob’s need to think his words out before he uses them, and understands it better than he ever thought he could.

“Because I had to play in the NHL.” Bob tells him finally. “Not just a dream, I had to play. I had to know English if I was going to play here in America. It was not serious unless I learned English. I got a tutor, I got a translator. It took a long time and still, not always great at English,” he told Nick. 

“You do good though,” Bob says. “No tutor, just me and apps on phones. You do good still,” he says, and gives him a big smile. 

—

He’s in the locker room taping up his socks and muttering in Russian under his breath. The message board he recently joined said it was a good idea to narrate his life in Russian to try and get more used to actually speaking it. Jack pauses and stops taping his own socks. 

“Are you speaking in Russian?” he asks with wide eyes. 

Nick pauses his narration of taping in socks and closes his mouth. “Uh, yeah,” he says. 

“You sounded really good!,” Jack says. “I didn’t know you knew Russian?” 

“Oh, not really, I’ve just been learning,” Nick says. 

“No, Nick is good!” Bob yells from across the room with a cheesy grin, and now everyone’s attention is on him. 

“Clearly, mom and dad needed their own language to talk in so the kids don’t know when they’re getting in trouble,” Cam says teasingly, a wide grin stretching across his face. 

Nick frowns, but across the room, Bob laughs. _“Yes, that’s why Cam will have to do ten push ups for every shot he misses in practice today,”_ Bob grins at him, “Yeah, Nick?” 

Nick laughs, loud and bright, and nods. “Yeah, that’s right,” he agrees. 

Cam freezes, and looks between the two of them, only having caught his name. “What? What did I miss!? Nick, what did he just say??”

—

He doesn’t even realize how much better he’s gotten until Panarin joins the team. It hits him, one day after practice. Nick has stayed later than usual to practice skating, and Panarin is trying to tell Jonesy something, but keeps stumbling over a word.

“Ugh,” Panarin says, and turns to Nick. _What's the word where you dip the food in oil and it becomes crunchy?_

“Fried,” Nick says in English, and then pauses and looks up at Panarin, who turns back to his conversation with Jonesey. “Huh,” he says to himself. 

—

Nick is dragging his feet as they walk into the hotel lobby, and all the rookies are yawning into each other’s shoulders as they shuffle into the elevator. When Nick leans his head against Bob’s shoulder, it’s still tight with tension. The game that night was close, with Cam scoring the winning goal 30 seconds before the last buzzer. Bob still seems to be in Goalie Mode, and will spend the whole night obsessing over the game.

Nick makes the decision to just sleep on the flight tomorrow and nudges Bob in the stomach to get his attention. _“Can we watch an episode of Кухня tognight?_ he asks in a whisper. Bob leans in to hear his question, his breath fans over Nick’s neck.

The other boys have gotten obsessed with the show as well, but Nick doesn’t want Bob getting crowded out of his own room tonight. 

Bob glances over at him and nods, giving him a small smile.

Nick gets off and gently nudges Bob into Nick’s own room. “C’mon buddy,” he says, and pushes him towards the bathroom. 

“I know what you’re doing,” Bob says after Nick digs through Bob’s bag for a toothbrush and shoves it into Bob’s hand. 

“Sure you do,” Nick says, going back for his own toothbrush and joining Bob at the sink.

Bob graces him with another grin and a hip check. Nick fakes a stumble, then laughs at Bob’s concerned face. 

Bob curls up into a ball on Nick’s bed after their teeth are clean and Nick settles in next to him, queues up the show on Bob’s iPad. They don’t usually talk while they watch the show, not unless Nick needs context for something, so they both fall quiet while they watch Max get into some new trouble.

Halfway through the second episode, Nick glances over at Bob to ask a question, and Bob’s eyes are shut. Nick pauses the show and bites his lip. He could go to Bob’s room and sleep, but that would probably just wake up Bob. He gently settles the iPad on the bedside table and reaches for the lamp there. 

It's a big enough bed, Nick tells himself, ignoring the raised hairs on his arms when his leg brushes against Bob’s. He pulls the covers over himself and lets himself fall asleep. 

\--

“Привет” Nick whispers when he wakes up, Bob’s breath gusting against his neck. They’ve curled into each other through the night, Bob’s usual fetal position is changed into something similar, but his knees are tucked up against Nick’s and his arms are curled around Nick. 

“Привет”, Bob whispers back.

Nick doesn’t stop to think, just rolls over so he can face Bob. “Hi,” he says again, and Bob’s eyes crinkle when he smiles at him before letting out a huff of laughter. 

“Are we just going to say hi in every language we know before we do this?” 

“Hola,” Nick says with a giggle and buries his head in Bob’s shoulder. 

“Hola,” Bob says back. 

“Okay, that’s all I know,” Nick says. 

“Bonjour,” Bob says, his shoulder shaking. 

Nick tilts his head back to look at Bob with narrow eyes. 

“I’m cultured,” Bob says, and Nick shakes his head. 

Bob opens his mouth to say hello in some other language, and Nick presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth before he can. Bob freezes and Nick has a split second of panic before Bob gently pulls him close and kisses him back. 

They exchange several kisses before Nick pulls back with a laugh. “Cam was right,” he says, giggling into Bob’s neck. “We are their parents oh gosh!”

Bob shakes his head and presses a kiss to Nick’s forehead.


End file.
